Crying for Help (13 page)

The next couple of weeks seemed to go by in a fog. Living with Sophia was like riding on an unfamiliar rollercoaster; we never knew when the next white-knuckle bit was going to happen. When she was in a sunny mood she was a joy to be around, now she’d settled in – funny and giggly and sweet. But when she got into one of her dark moods she was really quite venomous, slamming doors – my poor doors! – shouting and swearing, and storming off, enraged, to her room. She could swear like a navvy, and she seemed to relish doing so when she was like that, sometimes at all of us, and sometimes at herself. There seemed no triggers to all this, and no warning signs either. The only time I had a clue that she was about to switch personas was if she failed to take her medication at the right time. At those times she would become flushed and unsteady and speak gibberish. And I was becoming adept at spotting the signs now, which was a relief. But her mood swings and violent temper weren’t just about her condition. And now I knew so much more about how she’d come to be here, I knew it would take much more than a couple of pills to get her right.

But in the short term things were looking up. Mike had fitted locks to the bedroom doors, as he’d promised, and as
he’d
promised Kieron had come home. By mid-March he’d been home for a couple of weeks, and on this particular Saturday had asked Sophia if she’d like to go bowling with him and Lauren. I think he was trying to rebuild his relationship with Sophia for my sake, which was a kind gesture, and made me so proud of him.

Sophia seemed genuinely thrilled to have been asked, too. ‘So can I go, Casey?’ she asked me.

‘Of course you can,’ I told her.

‘And it’ll be nice for you too,’ she added, grinning at me impishly. ‘Give you a chance to think what we’re going to do for my birthday.’

‘Hey,’ admonished Kieron, ‘one treat at a time, missy! When’s your birthday anyway? Not soon is it?’

‘
Kieron!
’ she cried. ‘You know
exactly
when my birthday is! It’s written in giant letters all over the calendar!’

This was true. She had written it there, at my invitation, in big swirly shocking pink felt pen. And it was good to see that she was just as over-excited about her birthday as any other 12-year-old girl. ‘He’s just winding you up, love,’ I said. ‘Take no notice. And you’re right. Better get my thinking cap on about that, hadn’t I?’

I reached into my handbag for my purse so I could give her some money for the outing. And as I pulled it out she surprised me by coming up behind me and planting a kiss on my cheek. ‘Thanks, Casey,’ she said. ‘You’re the best.’

I smiled as I waved them off, pleased to see everyone happy, but as I shut the door I felt a wave of sadness wash over me. Because it was a veneer. As the experiences of the last few weeks had proven, days like this couldn’t be the norm. Not with all the underlying problems Sophia had. You couldn’t put band aids over such big psychological wounds. But days like this did at least show me how they
could
be, if only we could tap into the past properly and help her to put it right.

I went back into the kitchen and thought about cleaning it. Mike had been called in to work and wouldn’t be back for hours yet. No, I thought, today I would resist the urge to don my Marigolds. I’d phone Riley and see if she was free instead. I did need to think about what to do for Sophia’s birthday, and being a Saturday, there was a good chance David would be around to look after Levi, so Riley could come into town with me for a couple of hours.

Even with all the traumas and horrors of the last few weeks, it was unlike me to have left planning for Sophia’s birthday so late. I loved birthdays – liked any kind of family celebration really, and anyone who had the good (or bad!) fortune to come into our circle could rely on their special day being Casey-fied. I particularly loved putting on kids’ parties – with all that cutting and sticking and paint and glitter, they were my forte – and I had last year treated Justin to the party of his life – a full-on
Little Mermaid
-themed pool party in the garden, complete with hired giant paddling pool and real sandy beach. If there were awards going for completely mad, ridiculously OTT parties, I would definitely be in for a shot at it.

‘So what’s the theme for this one?’ Riley wanted to know, once we’d got ourselves settled in our favourite café and were tucking into French onion soup and Welsh rarebit. ‘What sort of thing were you thinking? What sort of things is she into?’

‘Hmm,’ I said thoughtfully. ‘You know, that’s quite a hard one, as it happens.’

‘Come on, think, Mum. There must be
something
.’

‘Yeah,
boys
!’ I said with feeling. ‘But aside from that …’

‘So it’s simple. We do a hunk party. Round up a bunch of Kieron’s mates from college. Dress them up like Chippendales, have them all dance to that Tom Jones song … Or then again, hmm. Maybe not.’

But joking aside, it was a poser to know what to do for her. With so much focus on the difficulties brought about by her physical illness and her emotional instability, there’d been precious time for just plain old getting to know this child, really. She’d asked for a mobile phone for her present, and her team had allowed it. Which was unusual. Kids in care aren’t generally allowed them, as contact with birth families often needs to be closely monitored for their own wellbeing. Not the case for Sophia, sadly, which was probably why they’d agreed to it. She could hardly go and secretly call her mother, after all.

But then I remembered something. On the form she’d filled in for us she had put down that she really liked musicals. ‘She’s even been to London a few times,’ I told Riley now. ‘To see some of the big West End shows.’

‘So that’s it, then,’ said Riley, beginning to warm to the task. ‘Yep. I can see this, Mum. The bright lights, the costumes, the greasepaint, the soundtrack … We can transform your downstairs to the Moulin Rouge theatre, or maybe the
Phantom of the Opera
one – where’s that? Or the slums of Victorian London, and do
Oliver
. I’ll be Nancy, and Kieron can be Bill Sykes – he’d be good at that …’

‘
Wicked!
’ I said.

‘Yes, I know. It will be.’

‘No,
Wicked
. Wicked as in the
musical
called
Wicked
. That’s her favourite one. She’s been to see it. I remember her telling me. Her uncle and aunt took her when they were fostering her. Yes, that’s right.’

Riley looked thoughtful. She frowned. ‘Such a tragedy her family abandoned her, isn’t it?’

‘It really is,’ I agreed. But I really didn’t want to quash my happy mood. Chances were that it wouldn’t last terribly long anyway, so I intended to enjoy it while it lasted. ‘Let’s not dwell on that now,’ I said. ‘Let’s think positive.’

‘You’re absolutely right, Mum,’ Riley said. ‘Let’s think party. Whatever happens we can’t let her out of our clutches without a Watson-style bash to her name, can we?’

Before heading off to the party shop, however, I first had to drag her to the mobile-phone shop down the road so she could do what I couldn’t – talk sensibly to the man there about what to buy. To a cave-woman like me, at least, a phone was a phone was a phone, a thing you used to make calls and send messages. But apparently not; what we left with both looked good – girly pink, encrusted with diamante – and, more importantly, did all the other things a phone had to do, like take pictures, make videos and do ‘apps’. It was all Greek to me (and it probably did do Greek translations) but Riley assured me that in this day and age it was a bargain, despite the price almost giving me a heart attack.

But if my bank card wasn’t done for the day at least the next bit of spending was more my natural territory. I knew the party accessories shop like the back of my hand. As did Riley. Like mother, like daughter. ‘So,’ she said, ‘
Wicked
. We need to think colours. Green, black and white, mainly. Yes, that’s what we’ll go with. Green, black and white balloons, green, black and white face paints … then we’re going to need witch stuff and wizard stuff …’

‘You make it sound like a Halloween party!’

‘Mum, do you actually know what the musical’s about?’

‘It’s about
The Wizard of Oz
, isn’t it?’

‘Well, not quite. It’s about the witches. The good witch, the bad witch, and this very handsome wizard. And the wizard ends up falling for the bad witch, who really
wasn’t
bad and … Oh, I’ll tell you the plot later. Just trust me, okay? The main thing’s that she’s green. It’s the green theme that’s key here. Come on, let’s start getting stuff in our basket, shall we. I can’t be too late because David will be suffering from nappy fatigue.’

And so it was that an hour later, and laden down with all our green stuff, we returned home, feeling very pleased with ourselves. We were just upstairs, stashing all our purchases out of sight in my bedroom wardrobe, when we heard the sound of the others coming in.

‘That’s good timing!’ I called down, as Riley and I started down the stairs. ‘We’ve just got back ourselves, this very minute.’

I walked into the kitchen then, expecting a sea of smiles and a reply, but was met with an uncomfortable silence. ‘Is everything okay?’ I asked, looking from one to another. Kieron raised his eyebrows and nodded towards Sophia.

‘Everything’s fine,’ she said. ‘Look at his face!
Honestly!
He’s just annoyed ’cos he got beaten by a girl.’ She giggled then and reached across to pull his ear.

‘Yeah, that’s right, Sophia,’ he said, batting her hand away. ‘
Course
that’s why I’m annoyed.’ He reached for Lauren’s hand and stomped off with her into the conservatory.

‘Okaaay,’ said Riley. ‘So I think that’s my cue to get off. David and Levi will be wondering where I’ve got to.’

‘You want me to drop you?’ I asked, conscious of the tension in the room still.

She shook her head. ‘No, you’re all right. I’ll walk. I need the exercise.’

‘So, love,’ I said to Sophia once I’d seen Riley out and returned to the kitchen. She was still standing against the kitchen worktop, looking petulant. ‘What really happened? Because I think it’s pretty clear Kieron’s not upset because you beat him at bowling.’

Now she glared at me. ‘Well, if it’s not that, how the hell would
I
know what’s wrong with him? For God’s
sake
! Why must everything be
my
fault?’

I was just about to give her an answer when she obviously decided she didn’t want one. She marched past me and thundered off up the stairs.
Great
, I thought, as I waited for the inevitable door-slam.
Bye-bye happy mood for today, then
.

I followed Kieron and Lauren into the conservatory to find that they’d opened the French door and gone out into the back garden. They were sitting at the table out there, looking glum.

‘God, that little madam …’ I began, despite my best professional intentions. Sometimes, it was just a knee-jerk. Didn’t matter how much you understood all the underlying reasons, didn’t matter that you cared. Sometimes you just couldn’t help it.

‘Mum,’ Kieron said, ‘she is
impossible
. She blatantly grabbed my bum while I was bowling. Just grabbed it. In front of
everyone
. I was so embarrassed. And when I told her to knock it off she just laughed in my face! Said was I only saying that because Lauren was about! I mean, as
if
!’

‘She did, Casey,’ Lauren confirmed. ‘And I did try to have a word with her about it – Kieron was really upset – but she just laughed at me as well and called me a jealous bitch.’

‘Oh, I’m so sorry, love,’ I said, pulling out a chair for myself and sitting down. ‘She’s just a nightmare when she’s like that. And when the two of you have been so kind, and taken her out and everything. I’ll speak to her, I promise. We can’t have her doing this.’

‘Oh, what’s the point, Mum?’ said Kieron. ‘She’s not going to stop it, is she? But that’s the last time
I
take her anywhere. So embarrassing. And there were people we
knew
there, as well.’

I was just about to apologise again – I so felt for them both – but as I was about to open my mouth to do so a hairbrush suddenly crash-landed on the garden table.

Startled, we all looked up to see the source of the projectile, to find Sophia grinning down at us from her bedroom window.

‘All talking about me again, are you?’ she shouted down, her tone cocky, her expression self-righteous. ‘Fucking losers, the lot of you!’

‘Sophia!’ I shouted back. ‘Get inside now! And don’t you dare speak like that! We have neighbours next door!’

‘Fuck the neighbours as well!’ she yelled, ramping up the volume. Then she popped her head back in and banged the window shut.

Thank God for safety glass, I thought, as I pushed my chair back and got up to go in and remonstrate with her. Kieron stopped me. ‘Don’t, Mum,’ he said. ‘Stay here. Let her have her little rant. She knows we told you the truth and all she’s trying to do now is to give you something else to be angry about.’

He was right, of course. I needed to remain focused on the original incident, not dance to the strings she was now trying to pull. So easy to fail to see the wood for the trees. Thank heavens for my clear-thinking Asperger’s son, who saw everything in a much simpler light!

We headed inside now, in any case, as time was moving on, and Mike would soon be home and hungry for tea. I didn’t go up and speak to Sophia – Kieron was right. Best to leave her – and instead took my frustrations out on the chops we were having. Not that I’d noticed. It was only the fact that Kieron and Lauren were laughing that made me realise I was being a bit heavy handed in my pounding. ‘Hmm,’ said Kieron, grinning from ear to ear as he watched me. ‘I
definitely
wouldn’t like to be that lamb.’